Page 45 of A Novel Love Story

She nodded sagely. “You should talk to Uncle Andie, then. He’s not married, but he almost was. I think that’s why he likes to read them.”

That surprised me. Anders once had a fiancée? “I wonder what happened,” I muttered.

Lily shrugged. “Guess it wasn’t MTB.”

“MTB?”

“Meant to be.”

Years ago, when I first met Liam, I believed in things like that, too. Stars crossing, and fated mates, and couples who were meant to be. Stories better suited for books, where the plots were predictable and the endings were always happy.

I tried to imagine Anders engaged, how he proposed, what the ring looked like. Who was his ex-fiancée? How did they break up? He wasn’t very forthcoming with any sort of information, so I doubted I could outright ask him. I thought of everything that I’d already gleaned—he was still singleandhe didn’t have any prospects, he walled off his emotions, he owned a cat, he came to town and took up the bookstore … but everything else was a blur.Fill in the blank. He was a blond-haired Darcy looking for his Elizabeth.

Thatat least made him sound interesting. Gross.

I picked at the drying glue on my fingers.An ex-fiancée, huh?In the back of the bookstore, I heard him clicking his tongue, pushing books aside, looking for his cat.

It must have been awful, however they ended the engagement.

Anders and I were more alike than I thought.

“Wanna help me with this next part?” I asked Lily to distract myself fromthatidea. “Let’s pick out some endpapers. There’s an art to it.” I handed her the book of card stock, and we finished putting together the casing.

I told Anders I would pay for the supplies I used when I saw him peeking out around the Romance section, but he just waved it off with a tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks, and disappeared again, saying he thought he heard a meow.

Lily picked out her favorite colors of the card stock—pink and yellow—so we wrapped the cardboard in them (she said they made her feel like she was in her happy place), and then chose a glittery purple for the endpapers, and set to gluing it all together. It wasn’t my best work, but the afternoon with Lily was nice. Peaceful, even. It reminded me of all the times Mom and I had fixed up tattered library books in her office.

I’d been happy then. Really,reallyhappy.

Not that I wasn’t happy now, teaching college-level English courses. I was. Keats and Byron and Shelley. It was a dream to be able to read as much as I wanted, and discuss the bard’s greatest turns of phrase with fresh eyes. But there was also something … a little divorced from those conversations, too. Something missing.

“There,” I said, gingerly opening the book and then closing it.The pages crackled a little, still delicate from the glue. “It’s not the best, but …”

She gasped and took it and held it out in front of her, the ribbon she picked out the perfect size to fit between the pages. “Iloveit!”

“You sure?”

“Yes, and now I don’t have to pester Uncle Andie anymore!”

I barked a laugh, and then gave a start when Anders materialized from the innards of the bookstore, his hands in his pockets. Still without his cat. He said, “You could never pester me.”

Lily made a face. “You’re a bad liar.”

“I’m notthatbad,” he muttered. Lily showed him the book, and surprise flickered across his face. “Oh, that is very … bright.”

“I love it! I love it!”

He caved almost instantly, and agreed. “It looks charming, Lily. Did you thank her?”

Lily spun back around to me and then dove into my stomach for a hug. She buried her face in my torso and squeezed me tightly. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said, and then let me go. “I used to want to be a marine biologist, but now I want to be something else.”

Anders put a hand atop of her head. “And what’s that, Lils?”

She pushed his hand off. “A book fixer whoalsosaves the whales, duh.”

“Ah.” And he rolled his eyes in that endearing way that adults could only do to kids whoknewthey were right and so no one could tell them differently. “Silly me for asking.”

She stuck out her tongue, and he stuck out his in retaliation. “I’m going to go show Mom at the honey hives!” she announced, and said thank you to me one more time before she scrambled out of the bookstore in a whirlwind of pigtails.

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